“He does not have to come back,” Amir said.
“Yes, he does, for I cannot send him away without giving him the answers to all his questions, my love. I must shut that door firmly and forever this time,” Azura said with a sigh.
He knew she was right, but it pained him to see the distress that her brother’s coming had caused her. Tomorrow after they had spoken he would speak with Marco Pietro d’Angelo himself. Then he would send him on his way with instructions never to return. He didn’t want Azura upset like this ever again.
The following day Marco came once more to visit with his sister. This time the slave escorting him led him into the charming little palace, taking him to a small salon. He was invited to seat himself amid the cushions set about a low table. A sweet drink and a plate of honeyed confections were brought to him. As anxious as he was to see Bianca again, he found himself easily settled amid the strange seating. He found the fruit drink he was sipping delicious, and the crisp little cakes, which he couldn’t resist popping into his mouth one after the other, irresistible.
His sister entered the salon smiling. She was unveiled, and wore a rich robe of crimson brocade silk trimmed with gold and black embroidery. Her beautiful dark hair was loose and uncovered. “Marco, welcome,” she said gracefully, seating herself across from him, taking the small goblet of sherbet from the attending slave.
“You are different today,” he noted. “You do not greet me veiled.”
“We are indoors. I have no need to go veiled in my own home,” she explained. “I see our servants have made you comfortable, and that you still possess a prodigious sweet tooth, big brother.”
“Your home,” he said softly, almost questioningly.
“Yes, Marco, my home,” Azura repeated. “This little palazzo is called the Moonlight Serai. ‘Serai’ is the word for palazzo here. I live with my husband, Prince Amir, and his other two wives, Maysun and Shahdi. We are happy together.”
“Did you know of the others before you came?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Yes, I did, but it made no difference to me, Marco. I love Amir, and loving him was all that mattered to me. Not family. Not faith.Only him.”
“Has he bewitched you, then?” her brother wondered.
“Do not be foolish, Marco,” Azura said with a laugh. “Have you never really been in love that you would ask such a thing of me? But of course men rarely admit to tender emotions, lest they be thought of as weak.”
“I do not understand what you mean by this all-consuming love,” he admitted. “I have a good wife. I have a child. I care for them, but there are other things in life to which I must attend. I do not have time for this love as you describe it.” He did look genuinely perplexed by her words, and by her attitude.
“Why did you seek me out then, Marco?” his sister asked him candidly.
“I would take you back home if you would go,” he said.
“Oh, Brother, how naive you are,” Azura told him. “I don’t want to go back, but even if I did, there would be no way for me to return other than to a convent where I would be reviled by the good nuns for my wicked and lewd behavior, and expected to spend the rest of my days in the deepest of repentance for my sins. I have many sins, Marco, but loving Amir cannot be counted among them.
“I do not wish to send you away today without you understanding that the choices I made were mine. I made them freely. I have no regrets about what I did. None! And it is really very simple. We are two people who fell in love, who wanted to be together despite all the obstacles others placed in our path to prevent our union. But we overcame everything. I am his wife, and I am happier than I have ever been in all my life.”
“Do you not miss your old life at all?” he asked her.
She laughed. “My old life and my new life are quite similar, Brother. In Florence or even Venice a married woman is cloistered in her home to protect her. She rarely leaves her home. In Turkey a married woman is also cloistered in her home to protect her, and she rarely leaves her home. I direct my slaves in their duties, although I share that chore with my sister wives. I would have done virtually the same thing in Florence or Venice. If I have a child, I will raise it here as I would elsewhere. When the child is grown I will seek a good marriage for it. When I die I will be buried. As you can see, there is little to no difference in my life here or there, Marco.”
“You have no family here,” he pointed out harshly.
“Our mother plans for great marriages for her remaining daughters, Brother. We both know that means the others will leave Florence when they wed. The daughter of a wealthy Florentine merchant is a prize highly sought after, especially by the nobility, who are always in need of funds. Our mother will find the best titles for my sisters, you may be certain. And once wed and gone, they will be as I am. Their husbands, their children, and those kinsmen around them become their family.
“How much time do you have for our parents now that you are wed, Brother? The fact that you toil with our father in his silk trade is the only reason that you see him on a daily basis. Do you see our two brothers, Georgio and Luca? Or our sisters? Or our mother often now, Marco? I suspect you do not. Why should it be different for me? Go home. If you would please tell our parents that I am happy, I shall be content. Live your life for yourself and your family, not for others, Marco.”
“As you so selfishly have?” he demanded angrily of her.
Azura laughed, not in the least disturbed by his tone. “Yes!” she told him. “As I have. I will not apologize for what I have done to anyone.”
“Your name is forbidden to be spoken in our parents’ house,” he told her.
She laughed again, but this time there was a bitter edge to her laughter. “Yes, I expect my name is forbidden, but is it so because of what I did or because I was successful in defying our mother? But no matter. Bianca Pietro d’Angelo does not live in the Moonlight. Prince Amir’s third wife is called Azura for her beautiful eyes.”
His face crumpled. “I will always hold myself responsible for what you have done, what you have suffered,” he told her. “Had Stefano and I not disposed of that poor woman’s body in the Arno, Rovere could not have blackmailed Father into giving you to him as a bride. You would have been spared his cruelty and brutality, Bianca. You would have made a good marriage and been happy.”
Now she understood! He had not sought her out because their parents had sent him. Their parents comprehended that her decision to go with Amir had been irrevocable. It was poor Marco who didn’t understand. He believed her forced first marriage had caused her to take the wrong path in life. Reaching across the table, Azura took his hand into hers and looked directly into his troubled brown eyes.
“Listen to me, Marco,” she began. “Yes, my marriage to Rovere was a nightmare, but because it was, I was able to recognize real and true love when I found it. I would not have otherwise. I would have gone through life a frightened but dutiful wife to a man I felt little for, even as our mother has. I know you don’t really understand what I mean by the love I have described to you, but you need feel no guilt for the path I chose to take, Brother. I should thank you, Marco, and I do. It is true that I once held you responsible for my misery as Rovere’s wife, but I no longer do. The unhappiness he caused me was his sin, not yours or mine. But without a knowledge of good and evil, I would not have found my own happiness, big brother.” She squeezed the hand she held and smiled into his familiar and troubled face. How much like a younger version of their father he had become, she thought fondly.
